Mayqo’te Day 20 — Reunion
Endwalker spoilers
The Aitiascope is a marvel of Sharlayan ingenuity, a device with the power to reach the heart of the Aetherial Sea, where Hydaelyn awaits. Sori begrudgingly is impressed with the technology as they forge a path into the void of light and crystal. The scenery is peculiar, yet beautiful, drawing on the aether flowing within her every breath. She suspects lingering overlong would be lethal, the pull of aether wishing to return to whence it came is likely to tear a person asunder. Keeping moving is best.
The place hums with energy, a primordial force reverberating within and around her, the intensity increasing the further into the expanse she travels. Their presence attracts the denizens, malicious and benign, confused souls that sense they are distinctly other. This is not a place for the living. They send the spirits on their way with a swift beating, and press on.
Their pilgrimage is not without visits from old friends and foes alike, drawn to the oddity as everything else here. A virtuous knight lending his shield, Garlean soldiers twisted from suffering still fiercely committed to their nation, an Archon wielding a familiar staff, the silhouette of the Antecedent leading them forward once again. The remnants of lives cut short, by her hands or another’s, she wishes each of them well regardless. Their duty is done and they may lay down their arms, comforted by the blissful tides of aether washing away their hurts. The Sea will eventually cleanse them all.
As they descend, movement requires substantially more effort, her limbs strain with each step as if wading through a massive pool of water. Sori can feel a pulse of power at this depth, like a voice calling out from afar, it beckons her closer. The energy pulls at her consciousness much like the Echo, there is no doubt that it belongs to Her.
Gradually, her sense of direction begins to fail as well. What is up or down becomes impossible to distinguish in the mass of pale blue. The Sharlayan architecture looming above has long since left her sight. The crystalline paths are the only solid matter, winding and weaving through the aether, continuing to guide their group to the center. As if sentient, the gaps in the walkways are magically patched with floating crystal debris precisely before they are needed. Sori wonders what would happen if she were to fall off the edge with the bizarre gravity acting upon them, but she dares not test it.
For a long stretch, no souls or unwanted visitors greet them. Only the clatter of footsteps hitting the crystal can be heard, the sound waves distorting strangely in the thickness of aether. The unexpected reprieve sends Sori on edge. She keeps her muscles tense and a hand on her blade, swiveling her ears for any hint of unusual activity.
“Sori, my daughter.”
Sori halts in her tracks, warm blood running cold, her heart thumping erratically. It cannot be, but here, it is. Alisaie bumps into her from the abrupt stop. She recovers, taking a step back, and frowns. Concern is written clearly in her eyes. “Are you okay? What’s wrong?”
Alisaie’s queries fall on deaf ears. Sori brushes past her, driven forward to the voice like a siren’s call.
The spectral form of her mother stands before her, significantly less opaque than the souls she encountered earlier. Despite Alassi’s state, her figure exudes liveliness. Alassi stands strong, clad in the set of well weathered armor she favored in life, her lips curving into a loving smile. Light catches on the silver moon earring on her left ear, identical to the one Sori is wearing. Cropped dark hair is tied back with twin strands falling to frame her face. The deep red of her eyes shimmers brightly, her hands resting comfortably on her hips. She exists as if lifted from Sori’s memory.
Sori stops short from her, partly afraid if she gets too close that the image of her mother will fade. And partly because the barbed point of guilt plunges into her abdomen, preventing her from stepping forward. She is the reason her mother is here. Sori’s eyes flick downward from her mother’s gaze.
Alassi is unbothered, making up the divide in brisk, smooth steps. Sori’s mind swirls like static, she trembles, but not from cold. Countless nights she has laid awake, envisioning what she would say to her mother if given just one more chance. I am sorry. I love you. Do I make you proud?
Hazy hands reach to grasp Sori’s face, featherlight and tender, stabilizing the harsh buzz of thoughts. Sori tenses under the contact, she is dangerously close to losing her composure. She can feel the hot tears threatening to spill, but not here. Not now. Not when the most important mission of her life hovers overhead.
Alassi is still smiling at her with pure, concentrated, love. Intense and understanding. Her eyes glisten as they fervently roam Sori, absorbing every detail through a mother’s eyes. She stills her wandering eyes, having found whatever it is she sought, her sights landing onto Sori’s face again.
“I raised you to be strong, but I never could have known how strong you would have to be to face what you have seen,” she says gently.
“So you know all that I have done?” Long, brutal days in Ul’dah, a dishonest thief, but only of necessity. A humble adventurer, lending aid to those in need in exchange for a spare gil. Minfilia, kindly offering her rank among the Scions. Ifrit, bathing her in a mirage of fire.
Battle and sorrow and heartbreak and love and friendship and all the quiet in between.
A Warrior of Light.
Was this life worth choosing over her own?
“Yes, I know your journey. What you have gained and lost.”
“I see,” Sori pauses. “Do you regret your choice?”
Alassi’s face falls, brows knitting together. “Regret..?” Understanding ripples over, collecting into a hardened look. “I have no regrets, daughter. But I sense you do.” She narrows her eyes, voice sharp as Sori’s blades.
“You bear guilt for my death. Why?” Alassi tilts her head, as if she cannot comprehend how such a thing could be true.
Sori tightens her jaw. Was it not glaringly obvious? Irritation bubbles under her skin.
“I left you behind, everyone behind. I saved my own skin when I could have stayed and fought. It is not like I did not know how. Perhaps then…you would have lived.” She’s replayed the scene a million times, a thousand ways. In the only reality that mattered, she was a coward.
Alassi’s grip on Sori’s face intensifies, she rubs soothing circles into her cheeks, unwinding the years of hurt underneath. “So that is the way of it,” she whispers with a sad smile. “You must not carry this burden any longer. You know as well as I, if you had stayed, you would have perished and I could not allow that. If you must hold blame for what happened, blame me, who ordered you to run. But for you, my daughter, I would suffer the same fate again and again, if it meant you would live.”
Streaks of wet stain Sori’s cheeks without permission to fall. Alassi wipes them away wordlessly.
“I..I am sorry..I..” Sori trails off, tears blur her vision. She repeats the broken sentence. “I am sorry.” For what she is apologizing for, she does not know. For being alive? For feeling guilty? For crying? Alassi crushes her into an embrace, steady and strong.
“Shh, shh, never be sorry to me.” She cards her fingers through Sori’s hair. “Let it out…it’s alright…” The tears fall in earnest now. She collapses into her mother’s arms, her body falling limp until Alassi, only two ilms taller, is forced to hold up their combined weight.
She is not the Warrior of Light or a Scion or even Sori , but a child, a daughter, desperately needing her mother.
“Oh, my cub…how could I not protect you? I love you.” Three little words. A simple phrase said every day. Between parents and children, friends and lovers. But it is a string of words that is foreign to Alassi’s lips, and Sori is undone.
How long has she waited to hear her mother say those precious words?
Sori stifles her cries and murmurs, the hurt fresh even after all this time, “Was it as hard to utter those words as you made it seem? Did I not earn your declaration of love while you still lived?”
Alassi’s reply comes thick with grief. “I have never claimed myself perfect. I wanted to make you independent—capable of facing anything the world threw at you. I did not wish to coddle, so I held my tongue, letting my actions speak of my love in place of words. I did not foresee the pain it would bring. And I am so deeply sorry. I love you, Sori. I always have and always will.”
There is naught else to be said. “I love you too, mother.” She clings to Alassi, who is not warm as a living body would be, but it is enough for Sori to feel her mother’s love, fleeting as it may be.
A selfish part of her wishes she could stay here, trapped in this moment. Here with her mother, where the Final Days will never come.
Alas, Sori has never chosen the easy path and she will not do so now. As her mother taught her, she will push forward with a keen mind and an iron will.
Painstakingly, Sori releases her hold of Alassi. Her eyes are dried and she feels grounded though her feet are not on earth.
“Don’t let me keep you. You did not travel all this way for me. Go on, do what you came here to do.” Alassi reaches to brush the strands of hair off her forehead. She presses a soft kiss upon the exposed skin. “No words can express the depths of my pride. Walk forward, and know I will always be with you, my blessing.”
The form of Alassi dissipates in a glittering of bright light. Sori watches the aether fade into the air with a final smile. Her mother is gone, but not truly. Not really. She exists within Sori’s laugh, within every swing of her daggers, in the moon and the stars.
A hand, firm and comforting, touches her back—Thancred. Sori at last tracks her eyes away from the space her mother occupied. She had forgotten she was not alone. She breathes deeply, turning to confront her companions.
Alisaie appears as though she wants to speak, but Sori cuts her off before she can. “Come, let us not delay further.” Sori strides forward, chin held high, a sure footed determination to her steps.
For those they have lost, for those they can yet save.
